


When Hell Freezes Over Rewritten

by Corporal_Ray_Person



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Death, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Original au, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Trauma, War flashbacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:54:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29218314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corporal_Ray_Person/pseuds/Corporal_Ray_Person
Summary: The written story I've been going on about through my little notes. Finally here. This will be different to the other one as I've finally found where I wanted this to go, don't think however this will be totally different, some things will stay the same and others will change for the better. So please, sit back and enjoy this, or don't, your choice.War sticks with you, even long after your dead, the sins you have committed will stick with you more so then stealing a handbag or even selling drugs to ruin some other poor fuckers life. Killing for yourself makes your a murderer, killing for a cause makes you a soldier, killing for your country makes you a hero, but what if through all that death and destruction, you lose yourself, twisting yourself into a monster to the point you are unrecognizable. Sometimes in hell, the quietest or the loudest people, the ones you would never expect, are the ones hiding the worst secrets.
Relationships: Angel Dust/Husk (Hazbin Hotel), Charlie Magne/Vaggie, Valentino/Vox (Hazbin Hotel)
Kudos: 24





	1. Handy Man

Voices came from the dark, laughter, hushed chatter, in the distance, somewhere in the black nothingness, the roar of engines, then a rifle shot, the bang was deafening, coming out of the darkness from all sides like a wave, a voice yelled out, another bang, the ding of a helmet being hit, machine gun fire, an explosion, the roar of fighters, artillery, gunfire, explosions, screaming, artillery, gunfire, explosions, screaming, artillery, gunfire, explosions, screaming, artillery, gunfire, explosions, screaming, with each wave it became louder, and louder and louder, with each hit, the blackness seemed to rise up like walls, barricades, closing in tighter and tighter and tighter until it felt like there was no air, a glass smashing, the sound of bone crunching, the screeching of cars wheels, a crash, yelling, crying, the tinkle of pills dancing around in a glass jar, laughter, music, it was suffocating, no way out, no escape, even when he covered his ears nothing stopped, it was like it was coming from him, his white and pink striped hands.

"NO NO STOP STOP STOP!" Angels arms flew around, his legs kicked out, sending the blankets that were draped out him flying, pillows hurtling across the room and Fat Nuggets sent dashing off the bed and into the corner. Angel eyes bolted open and he sat upright, panting, heaving. Sucking down oxygen like it was water, it was like he was drowning in it, no mater how much he took in, his lungs never seemed to fill up. Sweat dripped off the ends of his fur, leaving it glistening in the light from the street lights that came through his window.

Angel stared wide eyed at the space between his legs, the soaked sheet under him. He gripped the bed sheet that bit tighter before his lowest set of arms let go, the jointed popping as he stretched out his fingers. Slowly and carefully, he wrapped them around his middle before slowly leaning forward and pulling his legs up. Now matter how much he wanted to, no matter how much he forced them, he couldn't cry, there was nothing there. He could feel it there, like the sickly feeling of wanting to vomit but just unable to, that feeling of always being on edge, the lump in your throat, the swelling in your stomach, the pressure behind your eyes, the ache that thumped at the back of your head and the feeling of a finger being run up and down your spine.

He lifted his head, taking in a long, deep breath, straightening his back fully and holding it in before slowly letting it all out, a simple little technique he'd picked up from Charlie's classes. He slowly opened his eyes as he emptied his lungs, now getting a full look around the room. The blankets had been thrown across the room, pillows everywhere and worst of all Nuggets sat cowering in the corner.

Angel looked down to his other four hands that were desperately gripping the sheets, having to mentally pry them open in order for him to let go, each knuckle popping from each hand as he let go. He ran a hand through his hair, sweat. He ran a hand through the fluff on his chest, sweat. He ran a hand down one of his thighs, a waterfall of sweat. He let out a strained sigh and dropped his head, shaking it slightly before swinging his legs over the bed, slumping over and leaning on his knees, his bottom set of hands retracting just above his waist as he did. His second pair of hands reached down, searching for his handbag, quickly finding it and digging through for the familiar packet of smokes and zippo, "What a fuckin' mess."

* * *

Husk stared idly at the war across from the bar, his tail swaying from side to side ever so slightly. His wings shifted and feathers rustled before they rested back to their correct position on his back. Husk had all but zoned out five words into Niffty's little rant about the cleanliness of the hotel. This happened most nights, Husk mindlessly drinking only to have someone talk about something he didn't care about, only to give them half a nod or a grunt of recognition to make them believe he was still listening. Niffty knew as much he never listened but continued her tyrades about the hotel, book club or whatever else was getting her knickers in a twist.

He looked down at his drink, empty, great. He sighed and looked over to the bottle that was sitting next to Alastor, fucker had moved it. He grumbled and looked back over to Niffty, flipping his glass upside down and down onto the counter top, closing his eyes. "Niffty, can you please just… Slow down or fuckin' stop?" He opened his eyes, leaning on the counter.

Niffty starred up from her stool and over to Alastor who gave a nod, "Alrighty! Well, I gotta' new book I wanna' write anyhoo~ Ya' wanna' read it sometime?" She practically jumped onto the bar as she finished.

Husk gave a half hearted nod, waving his hand, "Sure. Just, drop it by when it's done and I'll read through and correct it for you." He sat back onto his stool, having to adjust his shirt as he did to stop it from choking him. Husk didn't really much care for clothes considering he was fully clothed anyway but Charlie had insisted and Vaggie had made it law so instead of pissing off Charlie, Vags and Alastor, he went with it, even if it pissed him off sometimes.

Niffty have one of her signature massive smiles and nodded, jumping off the stool and waving, "Alrighty Husk! I'll see ya' around!" She turned and hopped away, or more, sped out like a wiesel on crack. Husk rolled his eyes and looked over to Alastor, giving him a none-to-please look,

"There, I entertained her and was nice. Can I have my fuckin' bottle back?" Alastor raised an eyebrow, nodding his head, holding his hand up, his cane manifesting out of thin air and rolling it back, nudging the bottle towards Husk with the mic tip of the radio, "Husker my dear boy! Perhaps if you actually listened to the sweetheart, Al' here wouldn't take your booze!" The mic spoke up, the eye winking at him, "Merely an observation!"

Husk rolled his eyes and took the bottle, "Perhaps if he let me listen how I listened then maybe I wouldn't shoo her off when he's taken my only source of comfort away." He snared at the microphone, Alastor pulling it back, leaning it up against the bar.

Alastor shook his head before rolling over, resting his arms on the bar and sitting his head on his palm, "Then what was she saying?" He raised an eyebrow.

Husk took in a deep breath, "First it started with her going on about a small dispute at the book club, apparently one of the chicks there was getting all heated over her erotic stories so Niffty had to sort her out, next it was she made a new friend and recently she caught Niffty murdering someone for your lunch and she hasn't spoken to her so Niffty's been a little bit down as of late, then after that she went on about you and Vox getting into another fight and… Then it was about how messy Angels room was…"

Husk looked away, squinting, "She said she found bottles of sleeping tablets, morphine and such under his bed. That his room was constantly a mess and that his bedsheets are always drenched in sweat…" Husk looked away, absentmindedly carving something into the countertop. Alastor raised an eyebrow before tilting his head, "Husker?"

Husk snapped his attention back to Alastor, blinking wide eyes before shaking his head and waving his hand around, "Nothing nothing. Look are ya' gonna' stand there for ever and fuckin' stare at me like you want me to dick you down or you gonna' fuck off?" Alastor stood with a very unamused look on his face before his smile returned, "I think I'll take my leave after that Husker. Please do take care." He spun his cane around in his hand before tucking it and his hands before his back, his shoes clicking as he made his way off towards the exit to the lobby.

Husk groaned and sat down, taking off the cap of the bottle and flipping the glass back over, pouring himself another drink, making sure to fill it most of the way before sitting the Blue Label John Walker on the counter top and taking a nice swig from the glass, swallowing the drink as fast as he could, not even bothering to savour the taste, shaking his head. He sat the glass back on the counter top, gripping the rip of the glass and staring down at the wood he was leaning on. What Niffty had described to him was all to familiar, soaked sheets, the drugs, the mess, something was eating at Angel and he didn't know what, but it was his business, Husk couldn't care less, but, there was a nagging in the back of his mind that wanted to know, that wanted to reach out to him and tell him he was alright.

Husk shook his head and sighed, and like it was on cue, two white hands sat themselves on the counter.

Husk raised his head to look at a disheveled Angel. His hair was a mess, bags under his eyes, his signature pink looked lighter than usual and even to his clothes, the thing he spent hours on, well besides his makeup, was simply a hoodie and loose fitting shorts with thigh high socks. Husk narrowed his gaze and raised and eyebrow, reaching out and grabbing his glass, "You look like shit."

Angel looked up and gave him a smirk, nodding his head or more bobbed it before sitting down on the stool next to him, sitting his top set of arms on the counter top and the other pair fiddling with something under the counter, probably his phone.

Husk sipped at his glass, his eyes glue to Angel, squinting like he was trying to look through a crack in a-

"Husk!" A familiar squeaky voice called out. Husk groaned and wheeled his gaze over to Charlie, bouncing her way over to the bar, "You're a handyman aren't you?" Charlie leaned forward onto the counter, Angel chuckling and turning his head, Husk eyeing him as he did.

"Yeah sorta', whatdaya' need?" He sat down his glass, sitting one arm on the counter and another on his hip before leaning forward. Charlies gaze rolled away like she was searching for the words on the fucking ceiling before snapping back to him with a nervous look, "Well um… There's just some issues with the boiler in the basement." Husk raised and eyebrow before nodding his head towards Angel, "This ain't some kinda' prank he's putcha' up to is it?"

"Fuck off Husk." Angel said bitterly and with a harsher tone than usual, Husks mental eyebrow rising even more.

"No he didn't. Vaggie has been meaning to get someone to fix it but apparently with a storm coming in they don't want to risk it, or… Something." She stopped, scrunching up her face as she realized how piss-weak that reason was before shrugging and looking to Husk. Husk scrunched up his face and gave a half hearted nod and a wave of his hand, "Sure whatever, I'll go and have a look."

Charlie almost fucking beamed and nodded, clapping her hands together, "GREAT!" Angel winced at the sudden explosion of noise, Husks ears folding back and his wings folding out slightly. Charlie suddenly shrinking and nodding, "Sorry!" She said in a hushed tone before stepping back and going back to the kitchen where she'd emerged from.

"You're a handyman?" Angel spun around on the seat, raising one of his eyebrows as he sat his chin on his hand. Husk gave a shrug before standing, grabbing his drink and throwing back a mouthful.

"Who do you think fixes the hot water, arial and shit when Vaggie can't get those cunts from uptown to come down 'ere?" Husk sat down his glass, the fine whiskey sloshing around inside.

"Gary Cooper." Angel gave a half smirked, catching Huskers eye, a half smirk coming from him, "Now my first pick for a handyman myself by any means but, I can see you being good witcha' hands."

Husks eyes practically rolled back into his skull, immediately picking up the glass and throwing back the rest of the drink before clearing his throat and kneeling down, grabbing something under the bar and standing, holding a beige kit bag, slinging it over his head and adjusting it for his wings, "You're lucky tonight, bars open for you and you alone. Drown your fuckin' sorrows or some shit." He grunted as he opened the side door to the bar and walked out and around, making his way towards the hallway that led to the multiple other rooms and the door to the basement of the hotel.

Angel spun around and watched Husk leave, his eyes pulling his head towards the selection of booze before they rested on the Blue tinted glass bottle that sat on the counter top.

* * *

Stepping down the last rung and onto the concrete floor, Husk reached out and flicked the light switch, nothing. He sighed and dropped his head before reaching into the bag and taking out a Fulton flashlight, flicking the button on the side, the white light lighting up the darkness in front of him. Couches, chairs and Lucifer knows whatever the fuck else was covered in sheet lit up, creating a neat little path towards the boiler area.

The pads on his feet mostly hushing his footsteps as he walked through the maze of shit that Charlie had stacked under this place, like, how the fuck can one person have so much shit? I get it, it's a fucking hotel, but come the fuck on, Charlies gotta' be a fuckin' hordor or some shit. Husk grumbled as he climbed over a table with practiced ease, making his way finally to the boiler. An old tank with pipes connecting to it, looked like it hadn't been replaced since this place was built. Husk had always protested to get the electrical and heating changed in this joint but Charlie and Vaggie always came back with saying it'd be take much money and Husk would always explode with, 'You're the fuckin' princess of hell!' and it'd turn into a massive shit fight as usual.

He huffed as he stared at the boiler, making his way over to a table that sat in the corner and sitting the flashlight on the table top facing towards the boiler before he unslung the bag, flicking it open and reaching inside to grab what he needed and making his way over to the boiler.

Husk grumbled as he fiddled with the internals of the boilers, the panel sitting on the other side of the room, mildly bent and definitely wouldn't fit back on the hinges. He took the screwdriver that was in one of his hands and sat it between his teeth, muck and other shit that he was just trying to knock out sitting on his tongue, thank fuck for years of drinking and smoking.

He reached out and grabbed hold of a lever that'd been grunked close, a safety latch. He tried his damnedest to turn it but stopped, huffing and puffing and pulling his arm out and stepping back, letting the screwdriver drop to the floor. He sighed and stood up, turning his head before cracking his neck, his ear perking up and snapping towards the door as he did, the sound of something being kicked coming from the entrance. Husk stepped back out of the light and towards his back, reaching inside and grabbing a hammer, a million scenarios racing through his mind as he stood there.

"Husky! You her- ack - FUCK!" Angel's voice echoed as he kicked something else. Husk chuckled and sat the hammer down, picking up the flashlight and making his way over to the entrance, shining the light on the spider who raised his free hand to cover his face.

"What the fuck are you doin' down here?" Husk said gruffly, Angel dropping his hand slightly to look over, "Maybe if ya' dropped the fuckin' spot light I'd tell ya'." Husk rolled his eyes and did just that, aiming the light at his feet and stepping back, Angel coming forward out of the darkness and holding up two glasses, "You've been down 'ere for like half an hour so I thought'cha'ed be thirsty."

Husk gave a half nod and pointed towards the table, "Just sit it there and pour me a drink…" Husk turned and stepped away, stopping and turning his head back, "... Please." He continued his walk to the boiler and picked up the screwdriver that he'd dropped.

Angel nodded, making his way, mostly by feel, to the table, setting down the two glasses and removing the cap, pouring the drink and trying not to spill it before sitting down the bottle with a thunk, picking up his own glass and sipping it. Instead of the harsh bitter taste he was expecting he nodded his head and turned around, "Where'd ya' get this?"

Husk stabbed at the gunk that was clogging the lever, stopping for a second before going back to it, "I got it from one of Al's contracties." His voice echoed inside the large boiler. Angel nodded and sat back, sipping at it, "Why? The lack of sugar throwing you off?"

"No, just tastes… Better than that other shit." Angel mumbled and looked away, shaking his head and sitting down the glass, sitting his hands in his lap. "So how'd you get so good at this handyman shit?"

Husk stopped, squinting into the darkness his light didn't touch, talkative today aren't we?

"I did this sorta' stuff when I was alive." He threw back, light on the details. Angel scrunched up his face and stepped off the table, walking over to the boiler and leaning on the rusty hull, one of his lower hands reaching out and tapping his shoulder, "Could ya' move outta' the way for a second?"

Husk stopped, narrowing his gaze, the fuck does he know about this shit? Husk shook his head, maybe this would stop him from talking, he told himself before slipping out of the hatch and stepping back. Angel nodded, taking the Fulton and tooks from his hands and kneeling down slightly, wiggling himself into the small space and shining the light around, "Jesus Christ this doesn't need fixin' this needs to be replaced."

Husk chuckled and stepped away to the table, picking up a glass and raising it to his lips, recoiling slightly before stopping and staring in the dark, his cat eyes adjusting, fuck he must've drank from Angels glass. What an odd taste, tasted a bit like… Candy… Right.

He sat down Angels glasses and grabbed his, sipping at it and turning around, leaning on the table. Just as he did, he heard a loud clunk, the boiler coming to life and Angel slipping out as it did, smiling to himself, "Easy. Just needed to loosen a few bolts and knock the lever around a bit." He slipped the tools into his pocket, shinning the Fulton at the roof, illuminating some of the area at least. Husk couldn't say he wasn't not impressed, he never thought Angel could do anything other then, well, porn.

"Colour me surprised." He sipped at his drink, Angel sticking up his nose slightly at him before walking back to the table, picking up his drink and sipping it, "Where'd you learn all that handyman shit?"

Angel chuckled at the reuse of his words, stopping for a moment and tilting his head, smirking, "Georgia." He nodded and sat on the table. Husk narrowed his gaze, scrunching up his face.

"Whatever." He shook his head finally and stood up, "I'll fix the wiring tomorrow if I remember. Come on, you should be going to bed." He reached back, picking up the bottle.

"Oh how sweet, you care for my bedtime." Angel threw his head back and laid and arm across his face, "My hero."

"Shut the fuck up or I'll put you to bed." Turned around, pointing a claw at Angel

"Oh you know I won't protest to that Husky~" Angel purred.

Husk stopped, two thoughts raced through his head, one said for Angel to go fuck himself the other was… Winning. Husk turned his head and stared at the ground, tapping his foot as he thought, the thought of blowing off Angel trying to win but-

"One night." Angel stopped, completely frozen, soaking in what Husk had said. Slowly turning, "What?"

Husk threw back his head and groaned, "I'll come to bed with you, for one night. I won't take any pillow thrashing or I'll walk out. I…" Spit it out ya' fuckin' bitch.

"I just want you to get a good nights rest. Alright?" He scratched his chin and sighed, "Niffty's been telling me about your soaked sheets, your mess of a room and all that."

Angel scrunched up his face, more of a look of disdain then a look of confusion before he stood, walking over to Husk and towered over him, "I don't wantcha' fuckin' pitty. I don't wantcha' fuckin' remorse. Don't think 'cause that one eyed little runt said shit I'm weak and need protectin'. I don't. And I certainly don't need it from the likes 'a you." Angel shoved the glass he was holding into Husks chest, "Maybe when ya' actually fuckin' grow a pair of balls and come to fuck me I'll letcha' in my fuckin' room but until then, fuck off."

Husk watched as Angel left, throwing whatever he hit out of his way before disappearing, stomping up the stairs. Husk stood there, completely and utterly stunned before looking down at the glasses and bottle in his hand. Maybe he came across it all wrong, maybe he…

Husks shoulders slumped, his tail wrapping itself around his leg. He sighed and turned, making way for the stairs and up into the hallway, closing the door behind him, he'd go back tomorrow and grab his shit if he could be bothered.

* * *

Angel quickly darted into his room, checking behind him before slipping inside and closing the door, locking it. His heart ached and his throat was tight the entire time and now he was alone, it all flooded out. Tears rolled down his cheeks and his heart practically cracked. He slid against the door and onto the floor. Why had he done something so fucking stupid? Why had he pushed Husk away? Why, why, WHY!?

Angel cried, curling up into a ball on the floor, shaking his head. Husk stopped outside of Angels door, the bottle and glasses still in his hands. He stood there, listening to his cries, to his sobs, it was so jarring, hearing him go from absolutely livid to this in what felt like seconds before he raised a hand and knocked, the crying stopping. "W-what?"

"Just… Open the fucking door." Husk rolled his head as he spoke before snapping back to the door. The sound of movement on the other side caught his ear and finally the lock clicked and the handle turned, the door opening slightly, "Look. I've not come here to fuck. And I've not come here to pity. Just let me the fuck in, I want someone to drink with."

Angel couldn't help but smile, one of his hands moving up and wiping away tears before he nodded, opening the door, exposing the absolute state of his room. The large heart bed was a mess, stained and thrown about bedding, the large mirror that sat on the wall complete with a wall mounted counter was an absolute mess, sticky notes dotting it, pill bottles, regular bottles, cans, all kinds of shit. He looked over to the couch that sat next to the bathroom door, clothes piled high.

Husk stepped inside, Angel closing the door, "Sorry for the me-"

"How long." Husk cut in, turning around to face Angel.

"How long what?"

"How long have the dreams been happening."

Angel stopped, the same anger he'd felt before bubbling to the top. Husk could see the change coming quickly and stepped forward, "Look. I know I said I didn't pity you and really I don't. It's just I've dealt with this shit most of my human life and most of my afterlife. So the least I could do, is know, how fucked your head is."

Angel stopped, looking away, his bottom set of hands clenched into fists. "Since… A long fuckin' time." He looked back, one of his eyes twitching.

Husk nodded and scratched his eyebrow, "Right." He walked over to the bed, sitting down the two glasses, making sure to get them right before unscrewing the bottle top and pouring the contents into the glasses, "No more talk of that. Let's drink." He sat down the bottle and picked up his glass. Angel stared at him and then the glass, still wholly on the defensive as he crossed the room and sat on the bed, picking up his glass, Husk immediately taking a swig.

"I'm not gonna' pity ya'. I just know how hard this shit is. I'm not gonna' ask, I'm not gonna' pry. I just… Wanna' be there for ya'." Husk sat his glass down on his thigh, nodding.

Angel nodded with him, looking back down, holding the glass with two hands, "Right." He nodded again, lifting the glass up and sipping at it. "Well… What now?"

Husk chuckled and shook his head. "I didn't get that far."


	2. Ring Ring

From the darkness, the sounds of talking, the clicking of clunky keyboards, the low click of tape ticking over, the clinking of glasses, gunfire, the scream of jet engines, panicked radio chatter, a single shot in the dark with a scream following for a medic, the echo of helicopters, voices, Spanish, Asian, European and Middle Eastern, the darkness began to fade, blotches coming from the darkness like burnt film, a jungle, a temple, a Mosque, a coca field, a desert, snow that seemed to go for miles and miles, an office, a person, a hotel room, all of it meshing into one, a blur.

Wake up.

Husks eyes shot open, wide at first before closing slowly. The same dream. He raised his hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose with his claws and sighing, shaking his head. Dropping his hand and looking over to the clock on the side table, another sigh came from him, 0600. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, leaning on them and staring down at the floorboards. He really needed something to hide the scratches, maybe a carpet.

Husk sat up, turning his head to the right, placing the palm of his right hand on his chin before pushing up quickly, the popping of his neck filling his ears making them flick and his wings rustle, oh right.

Husk stood, walking into the middle of the room before dropping his head, letting his wing sprawl out until the tips of them were touching the walls, completely extended. He stood like that for around 5 minutes, stretching them, blood flow and all that before folding his neatly behind his back.

He took in another deep breath before hooking his right leg around behind his left and turning about to face the bathroom, standing back the way he was previously and stepping towards the door, swinging it open.

Inside it was pretty bare, minus the slight mold that was growing on top of the tiles. He never left Niffty into his room, last time she did he had to pick her up and throw her down the hallway like a bowling ball cause she'd gone through his, admittedly, sparse closet and messed with whatever was in there.

He walked up to the sink and sighed, leaning on the porcelain top and looking down into the sink, focusing specifically on a small puddle that had formed next to the drain, the small reflection of himself staring back.

Ring Ring.

Husk closed his eyes, shaking his head lightly.

Ring Ring.

He stood up straight and looked at himself, the reflection on the mirror staring back, fuck even his reflection hated looking at him.

Ring Ring.

He turned about and walked out of the bathroom and straight towards the red phone that sat on its own little pedestal near the window, stopping before it he waited.

Ring Ring.

He reached down and picked up the phone, holding it to his ear, "Husker, good man. There's an issue I need you to take care of. A particular person that you had gambled with four nights ago at the Golden Horns Casino, Imp with blue eyes and off pink skin, please be a darling about it and take care of him, ta-ta!" Husk dropped the phone, the clang staying for a second before the room was devoid of all sound once again. Husk turned and looked out the window, his eyes going over the tops of the buildings outside, a light snow, winter had come early it'd seemed.

Shirt, button up shirt, pants, belt, socks, boots, jacket, scarf, beanie. Husk looked himself over in the mirror that hung off the door to his wardrobe, he didn't look too obvious but his wings would give him away. He'd need somewhere high. He squinted and stared down at the ground, tapping one of his claws against the divider that ran up the middle of the wardrobe before nodding his head. He reached in, grabbing a long bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

Door, locked, elevator, down. Husk stepped out into the lobby, his mind analysing the front of the Golden Grin.

_Normally has a few people _  
 **Well more than a few **  
 _Yeah yeah more than a few _  
 **He stood out last time in that checkered suit, normally he wears flashing suits**__****__

__****____ ** ** _ _

Yeah normally but what if he changes?  
No he won't change it, it's his style.

"Hey Husky!" A voice smashed through his train of thought, causing him to snap his attention to the source, looking around before landing on Angel sitting at the bar, looking back at him. Angel looked classy today, red dress, wig, make up.

_He's pretty. _  
 **Shut up.**__

Husk squinted and made his way over, stopping around a meter from him as if he was contagious or something, "Yeah what is it?"

Angel looked him up and down, spinning a little more around so he was at least half facing him, "You goin' out some place?" Angel picked up his cigarette from the glass ashtray sitting on the counter and bringing it to his lips.

Husk nodded, "Yeah, out. None of ya' business where I'm goin'." His tone was flat, like it usually was. Angel cocked up a eyebrow but let it slide, smirking.

"How boutcha' make me up a cocktail before ya' haveta' go?" Angel leaned forward, showing off more of his chest fluff. Husk looked down for a second before locking his eyes with Angel, his eyes half closing, "What do you want."

Angel looked up for a second, tapping his chin before giving him a sly smirk and straightening himself up, "I'll take a' Sazerac." Husk raised an eyebrow before giving a subtle nod and making his way to the flip door of the bar around the side, flipping it up and closing it behind him as he stepped inside.

He pulled the long bag up over his head and rested it against the counter away from him and walked over to his little prep area, leaning on the counter as he dug through his archive of cocktails. Sugar, rye whiskey, absinthe, angostura bitters, twist of lemon with Peychaud's bitter for colour. He nodded and stood up, grabbing the easiest stuff first. Finding the rye was easy, but the Absinthe was a bit harder. He stopped, looking down at the many drawers under the display shelves before looking up, far right back corner, why did he put that there. He grumbled and climbed up onto the counter, moving a few bottles and grabbing it, putting the bottles back and jumping down with a padded thud.

He turned and sat the bitters next to the rye, scratching behind his ear for a second. He turned and opened the drawer under the main counter next to his ice box filled with the different bitters, a rainbow of colours looking back at him. He had to search through around five reds before finding the Peychaud's and taking it out, sitting it next to the bottle. "How many sugars?"

Angel stuck out his lips, "Three." Husk nodded, he wasn't gonna' comment about how fucking stupid that was. He knelt down into his 'dry' section, moving past all the herbs and whatever else to grab a neat little woven basket filled with sugar cubes wrapped in little silver packets, taking out three before sitting down the basket and closing the doors.

He stood up and turned around, walking to the other end of the bar and grabbing a whiskey glass before doubling back, sitting it down.

He picked up the bottle of red bitters, popping the cap, splashing in six before closing it, holding the glass before his index and middle claws and shaking it around on the wooden work top. Knowing Angel he'd want to taste the sugar so don't crush them up too much. He grabbed the three cubes, dropping them in, one landing on another. Husk scrunched up his face and looked down to his left, pulling out the drawer filled with all his little spoons and whatnot, grabbing out an ice cracker, stirring spoon and flat muddling spoon, closing the drawer and picking up the flat ended spoon.

Dropping the muddling end into the glass, he stopped, eyeing the sugar cube before knocking it down into the bitters and taking it out, sitting it on the plate and reaching across, grabbing the Rye whiskey, unscrewing the top and setting down the cap before opening the drawer to his right and taking out a 2 oz jigger, pouring in the Rye to the brim before rolling the jigger over into the glass, sitting it down and recapping the bottle, sitting that down.

He picked up the muddler once more and crushed the sugar, the entire time he could feel Angel staring at his back. He stopped tapping the side of the glass to shake off any excess and sat the muddler down on the benchtop, reaching over and grabbing the ice cracker before turning around, opening up his ice brin, a nice pool of fog spilling out as he did. He reached in and took out maybe 4 ice cubes before whipping it closed with his table, he swear he heard a small "oooo!" from Angel when he did, a smirking coming to his face.

He dropped all but one cube onto the counter, getting a loose grip on the cracker before giving it a small flick of his wrist, the cube cracking in one go, nice. He repeated this for the other three and sat down the cracker, picking up the mixing spoon and dropping it spoon end in to the glass and began mixing.

"So how long have ya' been doin' this Husky?" Angel leaned on the counter, reaching into his bag and taking out the glitter covered cigarette holder and popping it open.

Husk kept stirring but stood completely still, except for his tail that swayed behind his feet, "Well… When I was alive and wasn't doin' my main job, I was a bartender." He sniffed, hooking the spoon under the ice and lifting it up, watching to see how much the ice had diluted before dropping it, not enough.

"Oh? Where'd ya' work?" Angel lit up his cigarette, sitting it on his lips and sucking in.

"Name any casino or bar in Vegas, Chicago or New York I've worked it." Husk stopped again, checking the dilution, still not enough fuck.

"Copacabana." Angel leaned on the bar, tapping the ash into the ashtray.

"Yeah, one year, not the best place." Husk checked again, little longer.

"La Martinique." Angel absent mildly shot out.

"Before it closed, yeah. For around four months." Husk turned back, checking again, yep.

Husk stopped and reached over, grabbing the bottle of Absinthe and uncapping and setting it down. He stepped back and walked over to the other side of the bar, grabbing a new glass and making his way back, same glass. He sat that down and picked up the bottle of Absinthe, watching it closely as he poured in little more than a tablespoon and pulled the bottle back, staring at it for a second before nodding and grabbing the cap, screwing it back on and slipping the glass between his index and middle claws and started stirring on the counter top.

Angel had been quiet, too quiet. He turned his head slightly, looking back at him, "What's wrong?"

Angel shook his head and coughed, trying to break whatever was stopping him from talking, "Oh nothin'! Just-uh-distracted." He gave an off chuckle before his smile faded and he looked away, Husk nodded and looked back to the glass, stopping, nicely coated.

He picked up the mixing glass and reached back to the drawer on his left, pulling it out and reaching in to grab a strainer, sitting it inside the glass and pouring it into, making sure to get all that sugar that Angel probably was craving before sitting the glass down and reaching across the counter to a fruit basket, having to knock a few apples and oranges out of the way to grab a lemon, throwing it up and catching it before reaching into his spoon drawer and grabbing a peeler, skin of a lemon and twist.

He peeled off a nice streak of lemon skin before putting it and the peeler down, twisting the lemon skin over the drink and then rubbing it around the rim before dropping it down into the glass itself nessling it down around the base with one of the spoon he had.

He smiled to himself before picking it up and turning around, stepping forward and sitting it on the counter, "One Sazeac." He leaned on the counter and looked up at Angel, a small proud smile on his face.

Angel gave a small smile back before picking up the cocktail and sipping at it, nodding, "Thanks Husky." Husk nodded and turned back, getting to cleaning up quickly.

_Still got that thing for Al. _  
 **Fucking prick.**_ ****_

_****_

It took him maybe two minutes to get it all cleaned up and tidy once more before he made his way back to his back, slinging it over his shoulder and onto his back, flipping up the door and stepping out, closing it behind him and making his way around the seat towards the entrance, "Have a good night Angel."

Angel turned and watched Husk leave, "You too!" He jumped up, reaching a hand out before he stopped, staring at it like it was a pet who'd just tore into one of the pillows on the couch. He sat down and sighed, why had he done that? What did he feel like shit? What the fuck was wrong with him.

Angel squinted and looked away. Ever since that night a few days ago, Husk had been coming to Angel, making sure he was alright. Drinking with him, talking with him, never about the problem, the dreams or nightmares, just things. He'd talked about work though that really unnerved Husk sometimes though he listened. Angel shook his head, maybe he had just grown onto the cat or the cat onto him. He knew he didn't… Feel for him, well… That was a lie and he knew it. Ever since he saw him he did but it wasn't…

Angel shook his head, mentally beating himself before he sighed, sipping on his drink and checking the loose watch on his wrist, he needed to go. Angel looked at his drink, taking one more sip before sitting it on the counter and standing, collecting his things before he stopped, staring at it. All that work was going to go to waste.

He sighed and walked around the counter, remembering where Husk went for the fridge and grabbed the drink, sitting it inside and closed the door, making his way back around and to the door. Hopefully this Imp fuck wasn't going to be too much of an issue, just wanting a bit of eye candy for his game at the Grin, not much of a gig really, just hope he could stay warm.


	3. Bet on Black

Angel stepped out onto the curb, running a hand through his wig and making sure his dress wasn't three-quarters up his ass before he started down the street. The cab sped off into the sea of cars, lights from flashy signs lit up the strip. Casinos dotted every inch, whore houses, drug dens, clubs, it was all here. Personally Angel hated this part of town, too noisy and though he enjoyed the attention and craze he got being here, it was too stuffy, not that he couldn't handle stuffy, fuck, he'd had to fuck thirty guys in a single room on a shoot and that was stuffy but he couldn't handle the packed sidewalks of the strip.

Making his way towards the front door, he caught a few eyes, his ears picking up his name from whispers as he passed. The doorman, a large demon gave a smile, "Angel darlin'! You back for fun this time?"

Angel scoffed and shook his head, "No such luck Benny. Maybe next time!" He chuckled, the doorman pulling open the door, Angel stepping through them. Inside the place was massive, all kinds of games stretched for seemingly miles, slot machines dotted the walls, almost every one of them with a demon at it or a line. Cocktail waitresses worked the floor, cheers, yelling, the clinking of glass, it was intoxicating. The streets of the strip unnerved Angel but this was his thing. He smiled as he saw his client, a off pink demon in a pinstripe suit which looked like it'd been thrown through the wash of a circus.

"Angel baby!" He called out, throwing out his arms and walking over, a massive smile going from ear to ear. "How are you cutie?" He put both hands on his upper arms and leaned forward, kissing his cheek, "Hope the ride wasn't too stressful for you."

"Oh don' worry about it Donny, it was only a little traffic." Angel chuckled, adjusting the handbag on his arm. "Which table we goin' to tonight?"

Donny stopped and turned, looking out over the floor. Each section of the casino was marked with a little symbol above each, one catching his eye of a square with each section lined out, red and black black and red. "The roulette table tonight."

Angel nodded and licked his lips, "You gonna' clean house again tonight baby?"

Donny threw back his head and laughed, "Oh you better believe it sweetheart! Now let's get ourselves a sip, I'm mighty dry here." He reached his arm around Angel, sitting it on his hip. Donny was a little taller than Angel, not by much but it made courting him around when he had him on his arm a little easier. A smile came to Angels face as he thought of the money he'd be getting tonight, Donny was one of his biggest money makers.

Angel leant on the table, watching at the game went on, hanging onto Donnys arm and doing his job, eye candy. Sometimes some fucking bozo would come around behind and cop a feel but it wasn't that bad, Donny even went and gave him a gray chip for throwing off a player on his bet, easy 5K.

By the end of three hours of playing, Angel had gone through at least half a bottle of Champagne and around five martinis, good night if he did say so. Donny smiled as he took the second bag of money that had been given by the teller and handed it to Angel, "Your cut for being so gorgeous and helpful tonight."

Angel smiled, putting one hand under the bag and lifting it slightly, had to be at least 20K in there, Val would be in stitches. Angel batted his eyes and gave him a smile, "Thank ya' handsome but you're the one out there doin' all the work."

Donny shook his head and stepped out, putting his arm over Angels shoulders and walking to the door, "The idea of eye candy Angel is that they're able to throw off the other players, making it easier for me to not worry about them and focus on the good bets." He smiled, "You should know that."

Angel rolled his head, "Yeah I do." Donny chuckled and nodded as the doors were opened for them, the sound of the strip filling their ears. It'd snowed just a little more since Angel had gone inside, should have brought a jacket. "Want me to flag you down a cab?" Donny leaned over.

Angel looked up, shrugging, "I'm fine with you or myself doin' it. Maybe you could drop me off at the studio, show of to the girls there." He winked. Donny rolled his eyes and stood up straight, adjusting his stupid fucking modern art master piece of a shirt.

"I might as well, I gotta' head over to that part a' town anyway. Vox wants a bit of chat wit' me about somethin'."

Angel raised an eyebrow, tilting his head, "What is it?"

"Oh it's nothing really, just somethin' business related. Come on, I'll tak-"

If Angel had blinked he would have missed it, but he got to watch it all. A hole suddenly appeared just above his eyebrow, he watched as it caved in just a little into his head, the sound of bone cracking and flesh ripping filling his ears. He got to watch as the bullet went through the back of his head, just above his spine. Brain, skull and whatever else flew out the back, painting the side walk, it was all in slow motion, it looked oddly beautiful.

Then it played back.

Donny's head snapped back, a loud crack coming from his neck as the bullet snapped it, his body falling back into a heap, blood and brains polling around the exit wound.

* * *

Husk eased off the trigger, watching at the Imp drop to the pavement in a heap. Husk sucked in a lung full of air before rolling over and out of the fire escape, laying on his back and staring at the cloud covered sky. If he'd been an inch off he would have hit Angel, fuck.

**Way to almost fuck that up **  
_Well he didn't so leave him alone _  
**I'm simply stating the fact. He second guessed himself before he pulled that trigger. **  
_But he didn't miss did he? ___****__****

**_****____ ** ** _ **

**_****____ ** ** _ **

"Could you both shut the fuck up." He groaned, sitting up, resting his M14 in his lap.

**Or what? You gonna' fuckin' cry about it? **  
_Don't be so cuntish, fucking- ___****

******** ____

**____ **

**No. He wants to insult- **  
_He didn't insult us. _  
**Yes he did. **  
_No he didn't. _  
**Did. **  
_Didn't. ___****__****__****

**_****____ ** ** _ **

**_****____ ** ** _ **

**Did. **  
_Didn't. ___****

****____ ** **

****____ ** **

**Did. **  
_Didn't. ___****

****____ ** **

****____ ** **

**Did. **  
_Didn't. ___****

****____ ** **

****____ ** **

"OH SHUT UP! BOTH OF YOU! FUCK!" Husk roared. The two voices stopped, the whistling wind filling his ears now. He let out a long and deep sigh before he reached down and ejected the magazine, shaking his head. Pulling back the bolt and ejecting the magazine into his palm he rolled over, grabbing the spent casing from the snow, rolling over and grabbing his gun bag before sliding in the rifle, magazine and spent and unspent round before standing, "Acting like a bunch a' fuckin' school kids."

He swung open the door and trotted down the stairs, making his way through the hotel and out the back door, the red door swinging open with a little too much force and slamming against the railing of the escape. Soon he was marching his way through the back alley's, the snow crunching beneath his paw pads, a lit cigarette on his lips.

"Stop!" A voice called out, Husk stopped and turned his head slightly, "You motherfucker! Who the fuck are ya'!?"

**Sh ** _it ___****

****____ ** **

****____ ** **

Husk turned around to face Angel, one arm extended holding a pistol, looked like a Beretta, old lookin' classy. "Look. I didn't-"

"Are you fuckin' serious?" Angel leaned forward, he looked like he was about to kill him.

"Look. I got given a job, I did it." Husk raised his hands, shrugging, "You should know that."

Angel looked absolutely pissed, his finger curled around the trigger. Husk dropped his hands, making sure his right was close enough to his hip to grab his own pistol in case this got messy. He liked Angel but if he thinks he won't shoot him if he shoots first he's mistaken. Angel dropped his hand, turning and shaking his head.

"Why?"

Husk scrunched up his face, "Didn't get a reason. Just told to do it. Contract and all that."

Angel stared at Husk, like he was analysing him to see if it was bullshit. He shook his head and scoffed, "Well… Ya' just went and blew my nights fuckin' brains all over the entrance to the Grin. So are ya' gonna' make it up to me? Somehow?"

"That was quick." Husk remarked dryly.

"Whatdaya' mean?" Angel stuffed his pistol back into his handbag.

"I just blew your clients brains out and you're askin' me to make up the night to you after you'd just additionally pointed a pistol at my chest." Husk reached into his jacket, taking out a flask and twisting the top before throwing his head back.

Angel shook his head and sighed, "Can't stay angry for long with you. And besides, that was reason enough. Can't disobey a contract." He shrugged, stepping forward. "So where to."


	4. Small Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small peak behind the curtain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Memories will be italicised, just a bit of info

_"Keep it movin'!" A voice boomed from outside. An MP stood by his jeep, M14 sitting on his belt, another standing out in the street, keeping a crowd from forming around the scene of multiple dead bodies, each with a red pamphlet attached to them. ___

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_Harris looked out over through the openings of the restaurant, shaking his head as he looked away, reaching into his uniform pocket and taking out a packet of cigarettes and lighter, "Apparently VC have been coming into the cities and starting this shit on ARVN soldiers specifically." Montes called across the table, leaning back on his chair and reaching over to his glass of back alley whiskey. ___

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_"Yeah? Why's that?" Harris looked up for a second, flicking open the top of the zippo and striking a light, holding it to the tip of his cigarette. ___

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_"Vink's have decided it's easier to kill the little people then us." Montes shrugged, sipping at his drink, "I mean, who the fuck kills on a holiday." ___

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_Harris shrugged, sitting his lighter next to the packet of cigarettes he'd half assedly thrown onto the table, taking a drag and blowing up into the air to join the rest of the second hand smoke that hung around the low hanging decorative lights and other ornaments of Tet. 1968, Vietnamese new Year. Since the start of the war back in '64 the North and South decided to not attack each other whenever this shit rolled around, made sense, a time of celebration but also recovery. ___

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_Spooks had passed along to MAC-V and the rest of the Armed Forces in Vietnam that some serious shit was going on across the DMZ, Ho Chi Minh and his little helpers were getting ready for something but they were sure what. Harris didn't really care, nobody really cared. Most didn't really listen, soon as Tet is said everyone's eyes glaze over and their ears turn off cause they know they can zip down to Saigon or Hue and get so high and fuck so many slant they couldn't feel their legs. Harris however may not have cared but he did listen, increased VC activity across the invisible line, so Harris no matter what always carried his pistol with him, just in case. ___

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_Montes took another sip from his glass and looked over to Harris, raising his eyebrow, "Hun, you good?" ___

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_Harris blinked a few times and looked over, his eyes wide like he'd just woken up before returning to his resting bitch face, "Yeah I'm fine." He turned his head away, hear Montes say Hun wasn't unusual, but it was a bit of a throw off after recent events. He shook his head and took another drag on his cigarette, looking back to the MPs. One was standing by the passenger seat with the handset to the onboard radio resting against his ear, Harris squinting, "Think the MP over there is lookin' a little scared." ___

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_Montes raised his head and looked over, watching as the MP stood up, calling the other over, "Might have another shooting." ___

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_Harris nodded his head before turning his head to a radio in the far corner, the music had stopped and a speech had started. He pushed out his chair and stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray in the middle of the table before walking over towards the radio, moving his way through the patrons before standing next to it, listening. His Vietanmese wasn't that good but he could make out some words, "Revolution, time to strike, brothers and sister, Americans, traitors." None of it sounded good. ___

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_Harris turned back to Montes, shaking his head, then, in the distance, the thunder of an explosion, the ground shaking slightly, what the fuck was that? ___

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* * *

____

Husk opened his eyes, looking across the table to Angel, still wearing the dress, surprised he didn't have any blood on him. Husk reached into his jacket and took out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter, sighing, "How many times do I need ta' say I'm sorry for shootin' the guy?"

Angel shook his head and looked away, "I'm not angry at that. In fact, I'm not even angry, but I'm startin' to get angry cause ya' won't fuckin' drop it." He huffed, sucking on the black paper cigarette, the rest smoke rising up towards the ceiling.

Husk shrugged and looked away, sighing somewhat. Angel wanted somewhere nice so Husk took him to the nicest place he knew, wasn't much but it was far away from the scene and it wasn't a fuckin' backstreet biker club that he'd usually stop by to get smashed off his face. He sighed and raised one of his hands, taking off his beanie and stuffing it into one of the inner pockets of his jacket, "Ya' wanna order somethin'?"

Angel gave him a sidewards look before shifting and picking up the menu, French writing on the front. Angel looked down at the menu, squinting somewhat, "I think… I'll take the, Escalope de poulet rôtie à l'huile d'ail, accompagnée de légumes rôtis et garnie de ... sauce Peper. Yep." He nodded affirmatively and closed the menu.

If Husk could raise his eyebrow any higher it would have ripped itself off his face, "You speak Français?" He leaned forward, sucking on his own cigeratte.

Angel looked over, taking his eyes off on of the waiters and nodded, "Oui, et je suppose que vous faites?" He cocked his head and gave a cheeky smirk, raising the cigarette that had been sitting idly behind him to his lip.

"Yeah I speak it. Anything else?" Husk tapped the ash into the ash tray.

Angel turned his head up, staring at the ceiling, "French, German, Italian, Russian, some dialects of Russian, Dutch and Spanish." He blew out the smoke little by little as he smoke, blowing it all out in one go as he finished before jumping forward and pointing, "And a' little bit a' Japanese. Had to but never needed it."

Husk raised his head slightly, squinting, "Why'd you need to learn Japanese?"

"Work."

A silence came across them, Angel turning his head away, scrunching up his face, one of his lower arms coming up and scratching his eyebrow.

"German, French, Russian, Italian, Mandarin, Vietnamese, Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese, Spanish, Portuguese, Arabic and…" He turned his head up, sticking out his lips, "Afrikaans and Dutch." He looked down, nodding.

"Show off."

"You started it." Husk gave Angel a cocky smirk, Angel returning it and adjusting his seating.

"Why'd you need to learn them?"

"Work."

"What was your work?"

"You answer first."

The silence came back in force this time, Angel squinting and sitting back, crossing his lower set of arms, "No."

Husk raised an eyebrow, stubbing out his cigarette, "No? Why."

"Because I don't wanna' tell you. Haven't made it to second base yet." Angel sucked on his black cigarette, blowing the smoke out of his nose.

"So this is a date?" Husk leaned forward onto the table, reaching across and grabbing the cup of water next to his extremely empty plate. When this was done he'd call over one of those fucking frog legged twats and give them an ear full.

Angel shrugged, "Well ya' went and blew my dates brains over the entrance of the casino so I assume this is now a make-up date."

"Yeah but I don't fuck on the first date."

"Oh really?"

"Really."

"How boring." Angel turned away, leaning back in his seat. Husks eye twitched, changing his posture and leaning on the arm of the chair, sitting his mouth on his fist, his tail swaying as he thought.

"Why is that boring?"

"Because men who stick to old ideals don't get laid. Either fuck me on the first date or I lose interest."

"Hard to lose interest since I'm the only source of alcohol in your small pitiful world we call a Hotel."

"Touché" Angel shifted back, facing Husk more and more.

Husk turned his head, watching a waiter in the corner of his eye tending to another table. As he turned to walk over, Husk abruptly slammed his hand on the table, making the contents of it jump and Angel in toe, "Get your fucking ass over here."

The waiter turned quickly and marched his way over, standing at attention, "I am so sorry sir, how long have you been waiting?"

Husk looked up and raised and eyebrow, the waiter quickly reaching into his pocket and taking out his notebook, "What would you like?"

"Chicken cutlets roasted in garlic oil sided with vegetables and swimming in pepper gravy please." Husk said flatly, the waiter looking across to Angel who simply nodded at Husk, "The same."

The waiter nodded before stopping, "You're-"

"Yeah I am, now fuckin' scram." Angel shooed the waiter, quickly disappearing into the kitchen.

Husk looked to Angel and smirked, "Way with words."

"Fuck off."

"You wish."

"That's not true." Angel blurted out, Husk stopping and raising his eyebrow, Angel looking away.

It had been around ten minutes until they were properly served and it only took about five until they were both done. Both eating effectively in the same manor, scoffing down the food, seeming like there was no real time to enjoy eating it. Angel sat down his fork and knife first, letting out a very unceremonious burp before hitting his chest, chuckling, "Whoops."

"How rude." Husk gave a cheeky smile and Angel returned it with a giggle, shaking his head. Husk finished a little later, pushing his plate away and leaning back on his chair, "How much this gonna' cost ya'?" Angel sipped at his cup of wine.

"Nothin'." Husk smirked, "Alastor runs a protection racket on this joint and I eat here for free, that includes friends of ours." He smiles, putting out his arms, "I could even have this entire place ordered out by orders of Alastor himself and everyone would scram in a heartbeat."

"Why?"

"Cause he demonstrated what happens to people who don't listen."

Angel fell silent, imagining the sheer horror Alastor must have done to get a reaction from just his name. He knew about Alastor sure, but fuck just his name?

"We done here? I kinda' wanna' ra khỏi đây." Husk gestured towards the door with his thumb.

Angel looked outside, snow having piled up out on the outside table, "We catchin' a cap?"

"Course we're catchin' a cap. We aren't poor." He stood, grabbing his gun back that rested against the window and slinging it over his shoulder, Angel standing and slinging his arm through the handle of his purse, "Well, lead the way."


	5. Heart Shaped Glasses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new look on Valentino, or one that isn't explored more

_Smoke rose from the cigarette between his fingers, rising up into the chandelier above. Next to the man, another, dirty blonde hair tucked under the sheets, some scars scattering his back. Outside, the rumble of a tank and cheers came up through the balcony window, bright pale orange sunlight shone through the open door and curtains flapped in the wind. The distant roar of fighter engines suddenly came closer, as a small squad of P-51's flew over the hotel. ___

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__

_The blonde was shook away by the sudden whizz from the P-51's engines, groaning, "I fuckin' hate the air force." ___

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_The other man, a brunette, through his head back and laughed, "Well 'dhey probably 'atechu' too." He reached over, pinching the blonde cheer, the other quickly turning his head away. The brunette raised the cigarette to his lips, sucking on the filter. ___

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_The blonde sighed as another tank and cheers rolled under the window, shaking his head before sitting up, the sheet falling off his body, "Jesus Jerry if you're gonna' do that we'll have ta' shut the windows." The brunette fanned his face, looking away. ___

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_"Fuckin' hell you're like a cartoon character sometimes." Jerry shook his head, "But…" He crawled over to the brunette, kissing his cheek, "Maybe you want me to pin you down again, moaning your name, Anthony, Anthony oh Anthony-" ___

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_Anthony grabbed the pillow next to him and firmly smacked it across Jerry's face, "Fuck off." He laughed out, standing up and quickly stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray on the nightstand. Jerry just smiled and followed him, stretching before moving across the room to the thrown about uniforms and other garments, picking up his boxers and khaki pants, slipping them on. ___

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_Jerry moved out onto the balcony, the stone was red hot but really it was better then the cold they'd been facing recently. He smiled as he looked out to the tops of the orange Italian houses, some were reduced to rubble whilst others were entirely intact. M4 Shermans and British Cromwell tanks moved their way through the narrow streets whilst soldiers crowded them, some actually soldiering and others getting piss drunk. He turned his head and looked over to the Chigi Palace, two flag flying high over it. ___

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_Anthony emerged shortly after, pants on, boots strapped up and shirt tucked in, standing next to Jerry and leaning on the balcony, closing his eyes as the wind flew through his hair, "This… This right here is why I joined." ___

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_"It wasn't the extra pay?" Jerry turned, smirking at him. Anthony rolled his eyes and nodded, "Yeah and that. Shut up." They both chuckled, Anthony shaking his head. "What are you gonna' do afta' the war?" ___

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_Jerry stopped, staring at the archway that went over the door, "My dad owns a business in Boston. Little Jewelry shop, but he's apparently gettin' muscled out by some Yids so we'll see how that holds up." He nodded, "What about 'chu?" ___

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_Anthony blinked, looking over, the question had been on his mind since their first combat jump in North Africa. Truth be told he didn't know. Of course he had Angelo, Molly and his Pops to go back to, he could probably help out with the business but really that's why he'd joined, to get away from that. Maybe he'd stay a full time soldier, fight some other war. Maybe become a mercenary. He shook his head and sighed, "My family's one of the biggest mobs in New York…" He raised a hand and ran his fingers through his hair, "I could go back, maybe get a job as an enforcer or owner of a club." He shrugged, "Last time my pops and I spoke we wasn't on the best a' terms. Well… In hindsight, it was my fault." ___

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_Jerry nodded his head, wiping under his eye, "What happened?" He turned, leaning on the iron bars that made up the balcony. ___

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_"What are you my fuckin' shrink?" Anthony turned, now getting defensive. Jerry stopped and held up his hands, "Hey, I wouldn't be a good Platoon Commander if I wasn't in touch with my men." ___

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_"Yeah, real in touch, so close you're actually fuckin' one a'em." Anthony sighed, closing his eyes and dropping his head. "I was in charge of a club when I was back home… Little faggot bar, out of the way thing, who gives a shit. Didn't do much fa' me but there I realised I was well-" He let out a mix of a laugh and a huff, standing up, "-I'm a fag. I like dicks, I like takin' it up the ass." He dropped his hands, grabbing hold of the railing, "Pops found out one night when he caught me snoggin' on'a the guards." ___

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_"Right." He nodded, looking down and pushing out his lips, "He go off at you?" ___

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_Anthony bobbed his head from side to side, "Eeeeeeh… At first, then he asked if that's what I wanted, I said yes, he said have I been doin' anyone else there, I said no, he said well don't bring that here, I said fine, he said I could do what I wanted and shit just keep it private and I did. That was the end of it. But I… I always…" He choked, dropped his head and sighing, "It was tough. I mean. It was… Fuck." He shook his head, "I can't fuckin' describe it." ___

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_"Having to hide it." Jerry spoke plainly _.__

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_Anthony bobbed his head again before shaking it, "Nah it wasn't that hard. That was the easy part. Hard part was havin' to live with my father who didn't really… Understand it. One night he just fuckin' exploded, goin' off about Angello and Molly and then sayin' I was a bad influence, sayin' that I'll bring down 'da business and shit and… Ugh it's all a fucking blur." He shook his head. "Before I shipped out he said he was sorry for that night and that he wished me fair well but all I did was push him away, getting defensive, angry. I couldn't look at him so I walked away." He let out another sigh, "Now I look back on it, I was a fuckin' idiot." ___

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_Jerry nodded and shuffled over, putting an arm over Anthony, "Well… If everythin' doesn't turn out with 'cha folks…" He stuck out his bottom lip and shrugged, "I could use an assistant. Ya' got a good eye." ___

____

____

_"I don't." ___

____

____

_"You're the platoon marksmen. You passed sniper school, you went through Pathfinder school, you're a paratrooper, you're a rifle expert, you have a chest filled with medals and ribbons and you're sayin' you don't have a good eye after shootin' a German off a balcony 800 yards away with a M1 carbine?" Jerry leaned on Anthony with each bit of praise, getting a groan from him. ___

____

____

_"I missed, five times before I got him." Anthony rolled his head over to look at Jerry. ___

____

____

_"But'cha still got him, with a 30 cal carbine." Jerry dropped his head, his eyes looking over the cut of his eyebrows, a pout coming to his face, "Come on." ___

____

____

_Anthony rolled his head back and stuck his hand into Jerry's face, "Don't give me that fuckin' face or I'll either throw ya' off this balcony or kiss ya'." ___

____

____

_Jerry laughed, stepping back and yanking Anthony back into the room, pulling him into a kiss out of the sight of prying eyes. Anthony stood almost frozen, one leg sticking out before it rolled over and landing, stopping him from falling. Both stayed like that for a time before pulled away, Jerry resting his forehead against the Brunettes, giving him a cheeky smile, "I'll take a kiss over a long fall and a sudden stop." ___

____

____

_Anthony gave a small giggle, leaning forward and kissing Jerry quickly, "Naughty Naughty Lieutenant, fraternizing with the Platoon Sergeant." ___

____

* * *

____

Angel opened his eyes and grumbled slightly, walking out of the elevator and into the very extravagant, or eye shoreful, lobby, making his way to the front desk, "Hey Leillah, is the moth in?"

Leillah, a cheetah demon, looked up from painting her nails, looking over her way out of fashion glasses, nodding, "Yeah, he's in." Her cockney accent was especially on today.

Angel nodded and stepped off the counter, his hips swaying in his pink leather short shirt as he made his way to the doors to his bosses office, two armed guards wearing purple armbands with the insignia of a Moth on it pushed open the doors, Angel waltzing right in.

Sitting on the couch was the pink and brown haired Velvet, the flathead Vox and standing in front of them was Valentino, drunk as fuck on whatever exotic drink Vox had nabbed on his way here. "Angel!" Valentino slurred out, the doors closing behind Angel, "Come on here!" He gestured to them.

"Drunk again I see." Angel marked over, reaching into his bag and taking out the bag he'd nabbed from Donny the previous night, sitting it on the counter behind the C shaped couch before walking over to Val, "What did 'cha get him 'dis time?" Angel went to the table, picking up the bottle that didn't even have a name, typical.

"It's only a little of that good stuff from the Fourth circle-"

"And you know that shit fucks him up worse than anything else." Angel shook his head, taking the glass from Vals hand and sitting him down into one of the very fuzzy chairs that sat close to the couch, Vox through back his head and groaning.

"Since when did you turn into his fucking Nanny?" He reached over to the table, picking up his glass and sipping it.

"I haven't. Just when he's this fucked up he can't do shit, includin' given' me my fuckin' money!" Angel looked back, eyes going wide as he leaned forward towards Vox before turning his full attention back onto Val, taking off his glasses and sitting them on the table, "Hey Daddy, come on now, look at me."

Val rolled his head towards Angel, his eyes looking in all directions before focusing on Angel, a large smiling coming to his face, "Ooooh Angel cakes! How is daddy's best boy." He reached out, placing his hands on Angels hips and bringing him onto his lap.

"I'm good Daddy." Angel smiled and leaned forward, kissing the pimp, quickly pulling away with a smile however even more quickly turning away to spit the revolting backwater fucking moonshine out of his mouth.

"Angel darlin'... Did ya'... Did ya' do that th-"

"Yes daddy I did. There was a problem but I got your cut and more." He purred at the end, pointing to the bag that sat on the counter behind the couch, Val having to use every last remaining brain cell to direct his eyes to where Angel was pointing, a large goofy smile coming to his face, "Oh Angel honey, you're too good to me." Tears started to well up in the pimps red eyes, his antenna dropping, "I wish I was better to you!" He suddenly jumped forward into Angels chest fluff, crying.

"Oh for the Kings sake-"

"-there's a Queen now."

"WHATEVER!" Angel shouted, turning his head back to Vox, "You, never give him this shit again, unless he hasn't got people coming up for fuckin' work!" Angel bared his teeth and sighed, resigning himself to his fate of acting as a Nanny to the blabbering Moth.

It'd taken at least 45 minutes to get Valentino to give Angel the money he was owed, and another half hour to get him into bed, deep down Angel felt sorry for the Pimp, despite the beatings and other shit he put Angel through sometimes, he could be a good guy. He in his own way cared for Angel and mostly hit him as an example before immediately backtracking and apologising to Angel.

Vox sighed and leaned on the backrest of the couch, Velvet had disappeared somewhere, probably up to the Pimps pool with Vark or whatever, "Yeah probably not my best attempt at having a good time." Vox looked over to Angel, his arms crossed.

"Yeah. Look, I hate babying him, he's a hell born fuckin' overlord for fucks sakes. If he's spotted by anyone, he's fucked, which in turn means everyone else under him is fucked, including you and me." Angel crossed both sets of arms and probably was internally crossing his third pair, sighing, "Look just… Keep an eye on him, alright. He's got a fuckin' meetin' tonight at the…" Angel reached into his bag, taking out a leather notebook book, small enough to fit into his hand, and flipped through it, "Ragina Volesa… Do fuckin' people just think, yeah, that sounds Italian, and throw it- whatever." He shook his head, "He's got some big fuckin' client who are willin' to merge with him."

Vox tapped his screen, nodding, "Seems pretty important. Though I doubt he'd be able to make it." Angels eyes went wide, "That was some strong stuff. Last time he had it he was out for… A day? Yeah, not fun."

If only Vox could see into Angels head right now.

Angel took in a deep breath before squatting down, resting his forehead against his knees and silently screamed before taking in a deep breath and standing tall, "Right." He stepped back and started pacing, "I… Sorta' know what Val is goin' up against. Motherfucker had be sit down and go over it with him."

Vox scrunched up his face somewhat, "Would you refrain from insul-"

"Shush tubey." Angel placed a finger against Vox's screen before clapping his hands together, "I'll leave the talks."

Vox's eyes went wide and he shook his head, "No Angel, not a good idea. You're not a politician, you're a cocksleeve."

Angel rolled his head to Vox and put his hands on his hips, "Motherfucker have you negotiated with some of the biggest gangs in New York to merge with ya' fuckin' family? Don't think so." He scrunched up his face and shook his head, "I got it under control, alright?"

"Just… Need some help."


	6. The Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A deal between some of the highest overlords, however an old enemy shows himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention this story contains so racism and derogatory slurs?

Husk let out a groan as he sat up, the continuous banging on his door was getting to the point where he couldn’t ignore it. He grumbled as he got to his feet and continued grumbling as he made his way towards the door, looking through the peephole to see Angel on the other side.

**Don’t let him in. **  
****

_Why not? _  
__

**He might be trying to get to him. **  
****

_Oh come on, he’s not that bad _  
__

**What world have you been living in? **  
****

_Just- shut up. Let him in. _  
__

**Don’t! **  
****

_Come on, it might be interesting. ___

**_****____ ** ** _ **

**_****__** ** _ **

Husk raised his hand, unlatching the door and twisting the lock before opening the door.

**Fucking asshole. **  
****

_Sore loser. ___

****____ ** **

****____ ** **

Husk leant on the doorway, his wings stretching out as he did before tucking themselves behind him. Angel looked like he was in a mild panic, bit odd even for him. He looked him over, must have just come back from the studio. The silence between them was heavy, Angel looked like he was trying to say something but couldn’t find the words before groaning, “Can ya’ fuckin’ let me in.”

“Sure.” Husk stepped back, leaving the door open for Angel. Angels eyes went huge before he walked in, “Close the door.” Husk added, walking to the window and looking out, Angel stepping in and closing the door, leaning against it.

“If it was ‘dat easy-”

“Don’t make me regret it.” Husk glared over his shoulder before turning back, looking down at the plant on his windowsill before looking back out, “So what is it?”

Angel stared at Husks back for a second before sighing, walking over to the waist dresser next to the closet and sat down on it, “I need ya’ to do a little protection work for me whilst I sort some stuff out for Val. Shouldn’t be much, stand ‘dhere, look scary. If ya’ wanna’ take a gun, or two, don’t really matter.” Angel crossed his top set of arms, shrugging them whilst his bottom pair emoted until he was done, sitting them in his lap.

Husk scrunched up his face, squinting out the window before turning to face Angel, eyebrow raised, “You want me, to help you, do some work for that cunt that fucks with you?”

“Oh he ain’t ‘dat bad. Sure he has bad days, but he…” Angel stopped, sighing and shaking his head, “Look. If I do this, maybe he’ll get off my dick a bit more, alright?” He stood up and crossed over so he was now standing behind Husk, standing over him and having to look down, “Look alright, if ya’ don’t wanna’ come, fine, be that way but I…” Angel stopped, the words hitching in his throat. Why was this so hard to say? There wasn’t anything to it, just fucking spit it out. “I feel more comfortable when you’re around okay?”

Husk squinted, doubling over in his head before grumbling and turning around, “Alright fuckin’ fine. Where and when.”

Angels eyes widened yet again, so cooperative today. He gave a coy smile, “It’s gonna’ be uptown, so wear somethin’ presentable.” He gave him a wink and Husk replied with a glare, moving past Angel, “And it’ll be tonight.” 

Husk froze and turned around, “Tonight.” Angel nodded and Husk looked down, nodding, “Right, what time?”

“7:30.” Angel leaned against the windowsill, making sure not to knock the plant over.

“Right…” He looked over to his side table, the clock reading 5:30. He nodded and moved to the dresser, looking over his shoulder to Angel, “Well get the fuck out this ain’t a peep show.” 

Angel snickered and walked over to Husk, draping his arms over his shoulders, “You’re already na- OW OW OW OW!” Husk grabbed hold of Angels wrists, twisting them away before he shoved them down, turning around, “You don’t have the privilege to touch me yet.” He snarled, Angels lower hands going to his upper wrists, a scowl on his face, “Now get the fuck out.” Angel without another word left, slamming the door behind him.

_Maybe you were a little forceful on that. _  
__

__**Nah, fucking touched him, gets what he knew would happen. **  
**** _ _

__****_ _

_We shouldn’t hurt him, he’s just- _  
__

**No touching. We don’t need a repeat of last time. ******

Husk closed his eyes, sighing, “Can you two please shelve it for now.” There was no reply, Husk opening his eyes and opening the doors, going through his clothes.

* * *

The building wasn’t what Husk was expecting at all. Only hearing things about Valentino he’d expect the deal would have been done at a strip club or one of his clubs but not a theatre. Something didn’t sit well with Husk, this was off. Angel sucked on his cigarette nervously, staring wide eyed at the ground, Husk eyeing him the entire time, watching as some of hells shiftiest underlings moved from their very expensive cars and into the theatre, each one of them snickering or quietly remarking about Angel Dust being there.

Husk grumbled and leaned back on the street post behind him, staring at the doors instead of Angel before he heard Angels heels crunch the cigarette into the concrete. “Alright let’s go.” Husk’s eyes snapped to Angel and he nodded, pushing himself up off the post and stretching his wings out, before looking down at the CAR-15 that was slung around his shoulder, hanging on his hip.

As they entered they were met with less then happy faces, eyes glaring at them as they made their way to the main event, “Where’s Val toots?” 

“Got me to work tonight.” Angel called back, striding forward like he always seemed to do, each step filled with enough confidence to drown the ocean but deep down Husk could see how scared Angel was and Angel knew how scared this little part of him was, ‘what if Val didn’t want this?’, ‘what if I fuck this up?’ and a million other what ifs ran through his head.

Husks eyes were less on the scene at hand and more the wider scope, scanning around the theatre. It was the size of the Gershwin theatre in New York, minus most of the seats and the fact the balcony was hanging by a thread and the place was crawling with demons all holding guns, most looked extremely modern, all rails and sights, ugh, never could understand all that crap about accessorizing. 

His eyes wandered to the front of the stage, a nice row of seats still intact, they all seemed to have metal bases, perfect cover, as long as they weren’t using Steel Core ammo. Sooner then Husk had hoped Angel was climbing the stairs to the stage, a large table sitting in the middle of it, around it were six demons, one of them stood out. 

The demon in particular wore a Lizard Camouflage smock, a red beret sitting on his head and a rank sitting on his shoulders akin to that of Colonel. On his arm was an armband, black background with a red outline of a bat hugging that of a red moon, half of it being blacked out, the Crimson Moon, so that must be Louis Renault, the Overlord of Old Town, a rather large sector of Pentagram city who answers to Prince Asmodeus, real piece of work. Husk knew about Louis but only rumors, but what he knew was true was this; Former French Paratrooper who fought through World War 2, the first Indo-China war, Indonesia and finally as a Mercenary in the Congo, Mozambique, Angola, Libia, Yemen and even Syria. Highly decorated and controls the, Légions de Charlemagne, mostly made of former French soldiers or whoever speaks French, hard fucking bastards. But he’s also the head of one of hells biggest, well, crime syndicates, Crimson Moon which mostly operates in the hardest to reach areas of hell, bayous, deserts, the burning bits of the 6th city residing on the lava flats, you name it. 

So why in the name of Lucifer's right testicle was this motherfucker here?

“Gentlemen!” Angel greeted with all four arms outstretched, sitting down at the head of the table, “I’m sorry to disappoint you all however, Valentino will not be attending tonight, more urgent business came up that required his complete and undivided attention.” Angel gave one of his fake smiles, fucking hell he could talk when he had to, sounded like a fuckin’ laywer. 

“It is fine, we prefer doing business with his underlings instead.” A Frog demon said before sucking on the fat cigar between his fingers.

“It’s always nice to have you at the table Angel.” A wolf demon spoke, leaning on it. 

Right, K-9ines and Galacha’s, so the other three should be, Mantis Frangs.

**Fucking Yakuza wannabe’s. ******

********

********

Husks eyes moved over to a slim rat demon that sat next to the wolf, Plague Runners.

_Fucking disease carriers. ___

____

____

And finally Mawet.

**Fucking **_yids. ___****

****____

____

**__**

**__**

Husk couldn’t help but internally snicker as he looked over the table. All of these chumps minus Louis were a bunch a fuckin’ posers. Husk had more of a bone in the game of crime then this chucklefucks and certainly didn’t shy away from getting his hands dirty. These dicks Angel would wipe the floor with, probably take whatever Valentino wanted and more but Louis was something else, why was he here?

A small conversation was started between the bosses and Angel, all the while Louis sat back on his chair, flicking a lighter over and over again, staring plainly at the proposal in front of him sitting on a piece of paper. He raised two fingers and his personal guard, a soldier wearing similar dress to him and a MAT-49 tucked under his arm walked over, bowing down slightly, Louis turning and whispering something to him, the guard nodding before taking off, fucking suspect.

Husks eyes followed the man as he took off towards one of the exits before returning to Louis, squinting at him. Louis looked back, staring him down. Angel must have noticed or fuck even felt the tension before sliding back slightly, almost hitting Husk, a hand coming from just above his hip wrapped around and held onto his hand. Husks eyes shot down and stared at the hand, watching it hold onto his own.

It was an odd feeling but for the life of him, be it to not embarrass Angel he closed his hand, grumbling before looking around, noting down exits and entry points, high points and blind spots, anyway they could take fire or get out. 

“So, Gents.” Angel smiled, leaning on the table with his upper pair of arms, “I’m lovin’ this small talk but let’s get down to brass tax. You all want to hand yourselves over to Val, and trust me, ya’ won’t find a’ betta’ place. Protection will be the least of ya’ worries.” Angels’ smile grew even more insidious as he looked out over the men in front of him, “So. To cut ta’ the chase, sign those pieces a’ paper in front of ya’ and we’ll be right as rain.” 

Louis looked out over the men, watching as they whispered to each other before leaning forward and picking up the pens provided and signing, all except him, “Non, je ne signerai pas.” 

Angel looked up and raised an eyebrow, staring at him, his grip on Husks hand tightening. “And why not?” 

The tension of palpable, a grin coming to Louis’s face as he pushed out the chair and stood, “I was asked to act as a mediator, not to be offered to give up my sweat and blood like these… La colonne vertébrale manque de philistins.” He snickered, sticking up his nose, “I will take my leave now if it is all the same to you.” He stepped away, looking over all of them before laying his eyes on Husk, “Aren’t you a part of Alastor’s band of misfits?” 

Husk let go of Angels hand, Angel following, allowing Husk to raise his hands, resting them on the collapsible buttstock of the Carbine hanging around his chest, “Yes I am.”

“Aaaah, I thought I saw you somewhere. Didn’t you help him at the Masquerade massacre?” Louis stepped forward, resting his hands on his belt, one resting on the grip of his pistol.

“What is it to you.” Husk gritted his teeth, Angel jumping up and reaching out, swiping all the paper including Louis before returning back to Husk, stuffing them into his jacket pocket.

“Oh, it’s just you’re quite Valuable to a few people I know.” A smile crept across his face, “You best watch your back mon amie.” Yellow teeth stared back at Husk as his smiled.

Husks’ eye twitched and before long he’d grabbed Angel and ran, moving quickly down the stairs and up between the isles of seats.

Fuck what the fuck was that?  
I don’t know but keep your head on. Get to the car and back to the hotel.

Husk quickly made it out the lobby which had been cleared out, how… Fuck.

“Stay here.” Husk let go of Angels hand, racing to the glass doors and looking out into the street, the Carbine firmly in his shoulder.

Angel watched Husk before turning and reaching into his coat, taking out his Sosso Pistol, pinching the grooves on the back of the slide and racking a round into the chamber, “Is it clear?”

“Looks clear. Though they might have someone watchin’ the car. Check that door by the stairs.” Husk gestured with his head, his eyes scanning the street. Angel did as he was told, running towards the door with the faded Exit sign above, all the while keep his pistol at least level at his hip in case some fucker came out of nowhere.

Angel reached out and fiddled with the handle, it was open but it felt heavy, like something was on the other side, “Doors Jerried, we gotta’ go another way.”

Husk swore and turned his head, “We can take a chance. Fuck the car, we’ll zip it down the street as quickly as we can and catch a cab back.” He looked back to Angel who gave him a reassuring nod before jogging over to him, raising his Sosso up so it wasn’t pointed into Husks back, “Right let’s go.”

Husk crashed through the doors push lever, raising his Carbine to his shoulder and quickly scanning the street before he nodded forward to Angel, Angel slipping out behind him and taking point as they jogged down the street.

The entire time Louis watched from the sign above, a smile creeping across his face, the guard that was with him on the stage was now kneeling next to Louis, his MAT-49 replaced for a MAS-49 with a magnified scope, “Je veux qu'ils soient suivis. Je veux savoir exactement où vont ces deux rats.” Louis said without looking down at the guard, immediately standing and nodding his head, “Oui Colonel.” The soldier said before turning and taking off.

* * *

Husk huffed and wheezed as they came into the lobby, Angel looked fit as anything but he was just as out of shape as Husk, fuck they were old. After sucking air for a minute, he finally stood, looking straight at Angel, “When you gotta’ go to Val, I’ll come with ‘ya, don’t want ‘ya to get nabbed.” 

Angel shook his head, “That’s sweet and all Husky but nah, best not.” 

“You don’t have a choice in this legs.” 

Angel stared at him, an indifferent look on his face before he sighed, “Fine. Just fuckin’ wait out the front.” He groaned, walking to the bar and sitting down his pistol, catching Husks eyes finally, “Where’d ya’ get that?”

“Oh ‘dis?” Angel picked up the Sosso, the odd looking pistol being held in two hands, “Got it offa’ Mussolini himself. Trust me, ‘dat guy knows how to throw a party.” He smirked, chuckling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> “No, I will not sign.” - Louis  
> “Spine lacking philistines.” - Louis  
> “I want them followed. I want to know exactly where these two rats are going.” - Louis


	7. A Bit of Masked Fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter today. Would love to have some feedback on this one to see if I've nailed Alastor.
> 
> Also warning I guess if you need that, gore and harsh language ahead.

A scream came from a room down the hall, a cry for help from another, both silenced quickly. With each step, the deer demon attempted to navigate himself through the gaps in the pools of blood that had soaked into the carpet, a little game his one eyed little assistant would often play that fascinated him. He stopped, balancing on the toe of his shoe, one leg out behind him and hold arms out like a ballerina doing a performance, a large smile ripping across his dark skin, his yellow teeth shining.

Emerging from one of the rooms was a cat demon, his gray fur soaked in blood, an annoyed look on his face as he picked through the fur on his arms, flicking out skin and whatever else. His eyes flickered, red surrounding the regular orange, “Pretty sure this place is clear Al.” Husk stood upright, spreading out his wings, “Can we get this fuckin’ guy and get outta’ here? Kinda’ hungry.”

“Oh my dear Husker! There’s plenty of fo-” Alastor dropped his stance, his heel landing in the pool of blood, damn. “Ahem.” He cleared his throat, dropping his smile before beginning again, “There’s plenty of food! Look here!” He bent down, picking through the body parts and taking out an arm, “Rather skinny don’t you think? The diet option.”

Husks eyes dropped and his shoulders slouched, “Don’t tell me to go on a’ fuckin’ diet.” 

Alastor laughed, an assembly of laughter and clapping came from his aura, or possibly his microphone, “Too right my friend! Perhaps this would better satiate your hunger!” He reached down and picked up someone's upper arm, rather muscular with some fat to boot, perhaps he should take this for himself.

Alastor chuckled it towards Husk who caught it, his eyes flickering again before going back to their controlled state, “Personally I’d go for something less blasphemous.” He grumbled and chomped into the bicep. Alastor laughed as he walked past, patting Husk on the shoulder before continuing on with Husk following behind.

“Please no! No stop!” 

“Are all you rich, **_cunts_** , like this?” A voice came after followed by a scream and the sound compared to that of shoving meat down a garbage disposal.

********

********

**_**__** _ **

**_**__** _ **

**__**

**__**

**__**

**__**

“Oh Niffty!” Alastor called, almost seconds later the little cyclops poked her head around the corner of the doorway, blood covering most of her face, “Come now darling! We have to continue this little game.” 

Niffty grumbled and stepped out, making sure to not step in the blood, only stopping when Alastor abruptly stopped in front of her before kneeling down. He reached into his jacket, taking out a white handkerchief, flicking it before wiping some of the blood off her face, “My my Niffty, you sure are a dirty little girl when you’re having fun, but please, don’t respect them before they die. No matter how rich these new money cunts are.” He gave his typical wide smile, “And I got 57 steps.” 

Niffty’s eyes went wide, “57!? That’s better than last time!” she beamed.

“Well last time the entire fuckin’ floor was an ocean of blood and bodies.” Husk spat through his food, swallowing it down.

“What about you Husk?” Niffty leaned back, looking at him.

A cocky smile came to his face, putting his hands on his hips and sticking his chest out proudly, “My high is still 167.” 

“That’s really good Husk but you’ll never beat 479.” She gave him a cheeky giggle before Husk lightly slapped her around the back of the head. “That’s cause you were counting my steps you little shit. Now get on my shoulders.”

Niffty grumbled before climbing up Husks arm and sitting on one of his shoulders, Alastor looking back and giving another wide proud smile, “Oh how sweet, the two of you really are like brother and sister.”

“Only when you do that little whish whish to Husk, otherwise he’s all sad and grumpy.” Niffty teased. Husk grumbled and leaned away, groaning. 

“Oh please, he needs a little push in order to have some fun with us. Otherwise he’ll be drowning his sorrows at some fucking deadend bar in some deadend ally like any other fucking plebian in this…” He stopped, scrunching up the corner of his face before turning, one hand leaning on his cane and the other on his hip, “You know I’ve been down here for 50 years and still for the life of me can’t quite get that right?”

“Well Husk has been here, what-”

“Fourteen years.” Husk took another large bite out of the quickly depleting snack, blood running its way down the corners of his mouth.

“-and he’s managed to get it.” Niffty finished.

“Perhaps I’m just slow.” Alastor grimmaced, sighing, “My old age is catching up to me.” He threw an arm over his face, feigning his angrish at this realization, “Oh poor me! Soon I’ll be a bumbling old man in a wheelchair! Forever to be doomed to shit in a bag and be looked after by the two of you.”

“You’re higher than a giraffe’s pussy if you think I’m gonna’ be doin’ that.” Husk deadpanned through his food, swallowing.

“Where did you learn all these sayings Husk?” Niffty leaned down and over to look at Husk.

“Heard that one from a Rhodesian in 77’.” He cracked a smile.

“Well, you’ll have to write some of them down for m-” A shot rang out, Husk and Niffty froze and snapped to Alastor, his jaw hanging but the opposite joint, his tongue flapping uselessly.

He straightened himself up, pulling down his suit and giving a very annoyed stare from the interruption, turning to the shooter. A man with no legs laying between some bodies, how noble. He grumbled and winced as he attempted to get out of the bodies, Alastor merely standing there before reaching up and grabbing his hanging jaw, pushing it up and hocking it back into place, “That was rather rude wasn’t it?”

His voice had a harsher static tone to it, his eyes almost rolling into the back of his head, black holes replacing them, soon he was making his way towards the demon, bones cracking, limbs elongating, teeth growing and his jaw popping out of place as it grew wide, his form twisted as he got closer, the antlers on his head seemed to sprawl out like vines, “ ** _I always hate rude people. Especially when they, interrupt me._** ” The demon couldn’t even scream as Alastor lunged forward.

Husk and Niffty stood there, watching, Husk throwing the bone over his shoulder as they stood there, watching as Alastor ate and returned to Normal, standing just as neat and clean as he did before, “Shall we?” He turned with a smile.

All three made their way to the next ballroom to where the next massacre would take place, screams and cries coming from within as people were killed left and right, laughter soon coming from inside. Louis looked on from outside, seeing how the three effortlessly tore through the innocents, cutting them up, hacking them, tearing them apart, he looked on in silent horror, how could people like this even exist, even in hell?


	8. This is an Issue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would like some feedback on this version of Alastor if possible, thanks :)

A demon crawled his way through the trash can he was hunched over, digging through to find some remnant of food. He reached a large bin bag and ripped through with his claws, taking out a tuna can with some half finished tuna inside. The demon quickly latched onto it, sucking down the rotting meat before throwing the can over his shoulder, tinking as it hit the side walk. 

He went deeper, his ear perking up when he heard was sounded like music, shrouded by a faint buzzing. He shook his head and kept going, digging out a banana peel, more rotten than his damned soul. He tossed it over his shoulder and instead of hearing the faint thwap as it hit the concrete, he heard a grumble and a groan of a particularly static filled voice, the demon froze and slowly turned around, looking over his shoulder to the extremely annoyed Radio Demon that was attempting to wipe off the rotten and mushed banana off his red coat before he turned to look at the demon, a wide and manic smile stretching across his face.

The demon watched the deer twirl his cane in his hand before grabbing it and stabbing the sharp tip end toward him, hitting the demon right in the lower back. It let out a scream as it was lifted up into the air, the demon sliding further down onto the cane as it was brought around to face the Radio Demon, “You stained my **suit.** ” His teeth grew sharper and his jaw unhinged, his eyes rolling back into his head, “ **I hope you taste better than I now smell.** ” He lunged forward, biting into the demon.

Alastor sighed as he looked down at the stain on his coat, a nice smudge that reeked. He looked towards the newly raised sign of Rosie’s Emporium, a textiles and tailors, a smirk coming to Alastors face as he spun around his cane and used the radio piece to drop the handle and push open the door, the bell ringing as he did.

“Rosie!” Alastor called out with a theatrical ring to the name. He watched as the tall, well dressed and white skinned lady turned around, her scowl turning into a large smile, “Alastor! How have you been? I’ven’t’ seen you in such a long time my dear.” She leaned on the counter, tapping her claws against.

Alastors smile widened as he came close but not too close to horrify her with the smell that was currently assaulting his own senses, “Well my dear I’m so sorry!” He clapped his hands together, “You see I have this little project with Lucifer's daughter if you would believe that! And I’ve been ever so terribly busy with it.” 

He watched as Rosie’s smile turned into a look of complete and under bewilderment, her eyebrow flying off his forehead almost, “You? Working on a project with the Princess of Hell? Have you been taking too many of those mixers again have you?” Her smile returned as she rested his chin in her palm, rocking her head to the side, “Oh those nights were some of the funniest I’ve had. Seeing you, weeping your little eyes out, shaking like a newborn fowl, crying for your comrades, it re-”

“Rosie. I realize we are indeed close friends but continuing to talk on this subject and your name might just be the next crossed out on this business.” Alastors eyes flickered and his hands glowed red for a second. Rosies’ smile faded, scrunching up her mouth. “I came to ask if you were willing to fix up my suit! Some alley dragging cretin threw something at me and it’s left a stain.”

Rosies’ head dropped, her black pits were that of a void but Alastor could feel her eyes studying the stain, a smile coming to her face, “Absolutely. Take off your jacket and take a seat.” Alastor did as he was told, slipping one arm out before chucking his cane to the now free hand before slipping the other arm out, folding it neatly over his arm and handing it to her, “It won’t be more than twenty minutes.” She smiled wider before turning and making her way from behind the counter and disappearing into the shelves of supplies and clothes.

With a heavy sigh Alastor turned on his heel and walked into the waiting area, a few seats that had been picked out of the 1890s and a nice low wooden table complete with fashion magazines and some light reading. He stood, staring for a moment before going and sitting down in the corner chair, sighing to himself. He reached into his top chest pocket and took out a plastic container, the label reading “Mixers”, his eyes fixed on the off brownish orange colour of the container.

He remembered the nights when the memories were too much for him. He remembered the nights when the screams and gunfire were enough to pierce into the waking world. He remembered coming her or running to Husk or Niffty to help, to coax him back into being his normal self. He remembered the nights of getting absolutely black out drunk with Husk just to stop the memories, he remembered the nights of Niffty cooking him up one of his favourite meals to maybe bring him back, he remembered the nights here in the back room, wrapped in the blankets of the lone bed that sat in the cramped living area, those dark pits staring back at him wanting more.

He closed his eyes, wrapping his hand around the bottle and squeezing. Squeezing so hard he swore it would break and cut into his hand but instead, he uncapped the bottle and took two of the stupid fucking pills. He reached across the table, grabbing the glass jug and a cup before pouring himself a drink, throwing it back quickly before pouring himself another and throwing that back as well, setting them down.

He felt himself become lighter, the worlds’ colours began to pop, the familiar fuzzy feeling coming back, a smile from ear to ear coming to his face as he sat there. Time seemed to fly as Rosie soon emerged from the back room holding the newly cleaned jacket, Alastor quickly standing and walking towards her, “Thank you ever so much Rosie, you’re such a sweet heart.” He leaned forward, kissing both of her cheeks, “I’ll see you soon!” He called, not even letting her get a word in as he left.

Rosie stood there, watching as the deer walked down the sidewalk to wherever he was going, a hand going to her chest, a sigh following as she made her way back to the front counter and back to the dress she was working on, the ever present feeling hanging in her chest whenever Alastor made a personal call sat with her.

* * *

With a flick of his cane and a slight kick the front door opened, perhaps a little more forcefully then he would have liked. Alastor stepped into the entrance before kicking the door shut behind him, smiling to absolutely no one. Odd, the lobby normally had at least two people here besides Husk.

He made his way to the bar, seeing Husk sitting on a stool, glasses resting on the bridge of his nose as he looked down at a book, his wings creating a sort of barrier around him. “Husker!” Alastor announced, throwing out his arms like he was waiting for a hug. Husk simply looked up and scrunched up his face, slipping a torn up cocktail napkin into the book and closing it, slipping off his glasses and resting them both on the counter behind him, “We have a problem.”

“We do? Is it a problem? A me problem? You know Husk if you have an issue with what I’m doing you can tell me and I won’t listen.” Alastor smiled, leaning on his cane.

“I caught up with Renault when I was helping Angel with something. I think he knows.” Husk stood up, leaning on the counter.

Alastor's expression didn’t shift, he looked frozen like he was trying to digest what Husk had just spat at him. However he quickly straightened himself up, gripping the microphone a little tighter this time, “Oh? And what does that wingless bat expect to do?”

“Probably march through here with Machine guns and flamethrowers.” Husk said bluntly, reaching under the counter into one of the shelves to take out one of the many green bottles that had, ‘cheap booze’ slapped on the label, “We did go through that ball and kill quite a few people.”

“Oh, is this going back to that fucking ball?” Alastors radio persona all bug dropped, “Jesus fucking Christ, it was just like any other killing! Who really cares?” He shook his head, leaning on the bar and sighing.

“That wasn’t just any ball. That was put up by Asmodeus, the prince of Lust.” Husks face scrunched up before he threw back the bottle into his mouth and threw back his head, downing a good few chugs.

Alastor sighed again, more groaning this time, “Well. There’s no use crying about it.” Alastor straightened himself up, holding out his hand, “I believe we should tell Ms Magne.” 

Husk froze, now it was his turn to digest what Al had just said. He dropped the bottle and stuck out a finger, “Are you fucking stupid!?” Husk yelled, throwing his hands into the air. “If she found out about what happened that night she’d probably have you executed for treason against one of the Princes!” He shoved his finger into Alastors chest, “Don’t go fucking soft. We wait for him to come first then we attack. Plausible deniability.” 

“How is that plausibly deniable if he starts talking about it.” 

“Because. If he hits first, shows his hand, then everything he says is null ‘n void as he’s directly attacking the princess.” Husk smirks, “I’ve been here for 27 years and I fucking know that, you’ve been here for what? Close to 80? Come on Al.”

“Sorry. Just been a little off it today.” He scrunched up his face and sighed again. Husk stared at the demon, yeah something was off alright, he never acted like this ever unless he’d taken too many of those fucking pills.

“Give me the bottle.” 

“What?” Alastors head shot up, his ears sticking up in the air.

“Give me the bottle right now.” 

Alastor looked at Husks outstretched hand, begrudgingly reaching into his jacket and taking out the bottle, sitting it in Husks paw. Immediately he flicked it between his claws and looked into it, scowling, “This was full two days ago. Let me guess, you decided to down a few more today.” 

Alastor said nothing, instead he turned his head away in shame. Husk sighed before making his way around the bar and stood next to Alastor, sitting a hand on his shoulder, “Get up you fucking freak before you start vomiting and bawling your eyes out.” 

Alastor stood without much resistance, making his way out of the lobby with Husk following close behind, holding onto his cane and keeping one hand on Alastors shoulder at all times.


	9. Suggestion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real short one today. Sorry things have been a bit hectic here so writing has been slow and really didn't know what I wanted to do with this one. Anyway, hopefully I can get back into writing so see you all soon.

Vaggie let out a shaky breath. Everything was getting so complicated now, so real. First it was Angel, he wasn’t much but he was stubborn. Now they have Alastor, Husk and Niffty to boot, a neat freak, a drunk and finally one of Pentagram cities most notorious overlords. It may have been months ago but it still never truly left her, the gravity of the current situation. That at any moment this, Charlies dream, could come crashing down to any one of their guests. 

She sighed and slid down the wall, putting her hands to her face, running her fingers through her white hair and bringing up her knees to her chest, sitting her chin on her black skinny jeans. Why was everything so complicated? Maybe she shouldn’t have followed Vox that night, maybe she should have turned her down, even if that was fucking stupid, maybe she wouldn’t have been spotted by that once thought uppity dick, and maybe she wouldn’t have had a private tour around the castle grounds, and maybe she wouldn’t have had a make out session in the many gardens of that fucking place. 

She grumbled and shook her head, maybe this was all getting to her. The fact she was here, with Charlie, running a hotel. Sure she always knew it, she helped persuade Lucifer in handing over the rights to the land to Charlie, but now it was hitting her. She was trapped in this place. She turned her head slightly at the sound of the kitchen door swinging open, the tapping of heels echoing through to her hiding place. Vaggie stood and turned around, grabbing something from one of the shelves, bread, that’s what she came here for, and then she started sucking down on the Tequila that she kept stashed away. She took one last swig, staggering back slightly as she did before sitting down the load she was holding and grabbing the cap, screwing it on and slotting it back into its hiding place.

She stepped out of the pantry holding the loaf, her eyes snapped to the demon making the noise in the first place, Angel Dust. The spider stood looking down at a book, her eyes drawing to his clothes, huh. Loose sweater and sweatpants, definitely not something she’d imagine seeing her wear. Considering all he’d worn whilst being here was “work clothes” as he described them. She stepped away from the pantry, Angels head spinning around, all eight eyes landing on her, his top two eyes squinting, “Whatca’ doin’ in there Vags?”

“Getting bread.” She held up the loaf. Fuck did she slur? 

Angel raised his eyebrow before shrugging, turning back to the book. Curiosity wrapped itself around her, what was he reading? She walked over to him, peeking through a gap to look down at the door, a cookbook.

“Nothin’ too complicated…” Angel said under his breath, flicking the page. Vaggie wheeled herself around, leaning on the bench next to Angel. Her one eyes staring down at the book. Angel looked down at her, eyebrow raised, but he didn’t say anything. He looked tired anyway. 

“Who are you making this for?” Vaggie looked up, raising an eyebrow. Angel looked down, a look of confusion and annoyance sitting on his face, “Non’a ya’ fuckin’ business.” 

Vaggie dropped her smile and further scrunched up her face, Angel sighing, a wall collapsing between them, “Husk alright. He took me outa’ dinna’ the other night and well… I thought it’d be good ta’ make him somethin’.”

Vaggie squinted, looking over Angels face. He looked oddly embarrassed, smirk forming, “So what were you thinkin’?”

“Non’ a’ ya’ spick shit.” Angel snapped at her before looking back at the book. “He… He took me to a French restaurant, so I wanted ta’ make him somethin’... Eh…” He looked down, sighing, “I mean. I can cook good shit, like, my ma’ was a good cook. She’d cook all the stuff her ma’ cooked from the old country but eh… I don’t wanna’ cook him somethin’ sim-”

“You love him don’t you.” 

Angel snapped his head around once again, so fast he could have broken his neck, “N-no! Shut up!” He turned away, crossing his arms, “I just wanna’ return ta’ favor.” He nodded his head, giving a loud, “Hmph,” as he did. Vaggie rolled her eyes and stood up, sitting the loaf on the counter. 

“Then cook him something… Homey. Maybe a…” She stared up at the ceiling like the answer was written there, “Sssssssssssssssssssssssstew… Yeah, a stew.” She rolled her head forward to look at Angel who looked to be contemplating the suggestion, “Not that complicated. Just throw things in a pot, just gotta’ get it all right in one way or another depending on what you’re cooking.” 

Angel nodded and turned around, “Well I’ll… I’ll do somethin’. Now get that fuckin’ bread outta’ ‘ere… Throwin’ off my vibe.” 

Vaggie scrunched up her eyebrows, her eyes going to the loaf, “Bread… Is throwing off your-”

“OUT!” Angel pointed towards the door, Vaggie throwing up her hands before taking herself and the bread out of the kitchen. Vaggie couldn’t help but chuckle to herself, he was totally head over heels if he was doing this. Vaggie stopped as her legs began to slightly wobble, looks like that Tequila is taking hold. Better make it back before she suddenly drops.


	10. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A now, where the discontinued hinted towards, this one shall expand. Things are beginning, things that will lead to not only revolution, but to war on a scale, not yet seen by Heaven, nor hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character reference, all Angels will be from @APieceOfHeaven as their Angel works, one, look absolutely stunning, and two, fit the story rather well. Please, if you haven't go visit them on Twitter.

Sun rose above the white clouds and marble buildings of Eden, the faint chanting of choirs rising from the temples around the outskirts of the city rose and draped over the buildings, the ringing of bells to announce the start of the day chimed. 

A pale figure rose from their bed, the sun shinning between the cracks of the curtains, illuminating his pure white skin. The figure raised his hand from the darkness, running it through his hair before letting it drop lifelessly back onto the mattress,a heavy sigh following as he did. The dark haired figure reached over to the nightstand, grabbing the hair pin that sat there, a flaming eye. He ran his long thumb over the golden clip, the eye lighting up for a second before fading.

Azrael sipped at his chalice, his mind elsewhere. Gazing over the portraits he’d stared at absentmindedly meeting after meeting since the banishing of his brother. Things have never been the same since then, his brothers especially were different. They looked upon him with disgust, a look of contempt that rivaled the look his father gave him when he assigned him his punishment, “As you wish to serve your brother, even in betrayal, you shall serve, but only in death will your service be needed.” The words racked around Azrael’s head whenever he was alone, maybe that was another part of this curse, to have the words his father used when he bestowed his position. 

“Azrael!” A loud bang followed the sudden shout, startling the black haired Angel from his daydream and ripping him back into the now. The entire table looked down towards him, Joel stared through his golden mask, a scowl sitting on his face. “How many times must you be like this. Pay attention.” He hissed before standing upright, the small ball of fire that sat hovering over his shoulder followed him as he walked back towards the board he had set up, battle plans dotting it. Ah yes, that war.

It was no secret, well here at least, that Heaven was at war. A Holy War to fight demons and undesirables to God's plan, a war that had been going on since Samael’s little revolution. A smirk came to Azrael’s face as a glimpse of so long ago faded into his mind, blonde haired, blue eyes, always wearing a nice suit and cape. He held himself in such prestige but when he was told about what would come of his fathers obsession with Humans, he couldn’t let it stand. Azrael sighed and reached over, picking up his chalice and sipping at it, perhaps he could take a bottle, he would need it.

A flame flickered amongst the many pillars of the great Library. Unlike most in heaven, this was reserved for names of those who have been granted access to Heaven, but below this, a more dark and twisted library, with winding shelves, black almost bone like construction, a building reserved for all those condemned to hell, and amongst them all, sat a lone soul, sitting and sipping on his cup. He grumbled as the last of his drink disappeared, having to lean over and pick up the bottle, quickly realising it was empty. He groaned and threw the bottle away, slumping back in his chair.

His hands twitched, his legs crossed and his cheeks turned hot, not again. He run his hands up from his thighs to his chest. He leaned forward and grumbled, slamming his head against the desk, the sound echoing which seemed to go on forever, a huff coming soon after. When had he become so lonely? When had he become so miserable that he had to resort to acts of self pleasure. He stood, grabbing hold of the back of the chair, staring down at the seat.

He scratched his chin and peered over his shoulder towards a very familiar book, once wrapped in white and gold. A book granted to be seen by only a select few, the Rules and Laws of Heaven and Hell, creative name, however, father never was creative.

Azrael turned and made his way to the book before plucking it out and flipping to a very specific page, page 357: Power and the transition of Power within the Underworld-

_“Those whom are birthed into the line of Pure Angels shall be granted seats upon the Council of Angels. However those who fall from their seat shall be condemned to the lands of Hades to resign for all eternity. However those within Hades, unlike Heaven, can be overthrown and their power transitioned to a new Soul, a Hellbound soul of a Demon. The Demon must be of pure Demonic summoning and must obtain the seal of a Demon of Solomon, otherwise known as Goetic Demons. Once this demon takes their seat upon the throne of the King, he shall become a new Fallen Angel which must be bound to an Angel for guidance and council.”_

Azrael’s read over the words, again and again and again like he had done countless days and nights since the falling of Lucifer. He knew that once Lucifer was released from his curse and given up his power he would return to Heaven as being redeemed, as written. Azrael bowed his head to the book, before closing it and slotting it back onto the shelf, his fingers lingering against the spine as if it had reached out and grabbed him, forcing him there.

He closed his eyes, his vision becoming clouded for only a moment before all became clear. Red skies and seas. City that stretched out for miles and sitting in the center of it all, a tower donning a large V. A smile came to Azrael’s face as he floated in front of the window, looking inside. The purple demon he had kept his eye on for years now stood at the table that was hidden behind the large purple seat that stretched around, a glass sitting in his fingers.

He could feel those cold red eyes staring into Azrael’s ascended form as he looked out the window and towards the white planet that sat in the sky beyond the sun. Azrael took in a deep breath, a feeling brewing in his chest, then suddenly, a burning, then a light tingling rose up his arm and finally fully consumed him.

When he opened his eyes, he was not standing on the black bone floors of the library, he was not surrounded by endless rows of books, he was not surrounded by his sadness and pity, he was here, finally.

Valentino froze for a second and turned away from the bright blinding light that suddenly appeared, wincing as he ducked down away from the heat that came with it before it disappeared in another flash. The purple demon stood and turned to look at what had just appeared, a man, no, an Angel, complete with a black and white dress and a large Golden cross that sat on his coat, the flaming eye that sat pinned in his hair shone for a second before returning to its regular state, the Angel opening his eyes, dark, brown eyes stared back at Valentino as he stood there, frozen.

“Hello, Valentino.”


End file.
